To Feel Alive
by Goldenbrook15
Summary: Kirito isn't a criminal. Neither is Asuna. They are NOT the leaders of the most infamous famiglia in Japan, no matter what the rumors say. If anyone asks, it Argo's fault.
1. Alive

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sword Art Online.**

**Summary: **_Kirito isn't a criminal. Neither is Asuna. They are NOT the leaders of the most infamous famiglia in Japan, no matter what the rumors say. If anyone asks, it Argo's fault. _

**This was the most requested story that I put up on my Island of Fairies. I also have a poll up on my profile with more options if anyone wants to vote on which ones I put up or update. The second chapter should be up within a few hours. I am just adding a few finishing details.**

**0~o~0**

**Chapter One**

_**Alive**_

In the immediate aftermath of Sword Art Online ending, Tuski Fujisaki woke up in a hospital to the sound of nurses and doctors shouting back and forth as the waking SAO survivors struggled to pull themselves from their beds.

Two years ago, she might have been content to simply lay their and relish in the fact that they were finally _free_.

Two years ago, she hadn't been trapped inside of a madman's world and forced to fight for her life. Two years ago, she hadn't been Argo, the Rat, the best info broker in all of Aincrad.

Once upon a time, she had been Tuski Fujisaki, quiet girl in a big school who could never stand out how much she wanted to. But that was then, this is now. And right now, Argo wanted to know how in the world the game was suddenly cleared.

As far as she knew (she knew everything - usually) the clearers had only reached floor 75. That meant that they should have been 24 floors from freedom. 24 floors of suffering, research, and grinding levels.

What in the world happened to the 24 floors?!

Argo prided herself on her up to date information. In Aincrad, _she_ was the source of all of the news that circled the cleared floors. Sure, there were other info brokers, but she was _The _Info Broker. The Rat. She heard all, saw all, and told all (for the right price). If you needed life or death important information, she was the one you went to.

So the fact that she had no idea what happened irritated her. Badly.

Last thing she'd heard from the clearing group, they'd set off to face the floor 75 boss. The scouting party never returned, so it promised to be a bad boss fight. She'd known there was a high possibility to lose a lot of clearers, but there was nothing to suggest that the game would just up and _end_ like that.

Something else must have gone terribly wrong. Or terribly right. Either way, she still needed to _know._

As a nurse finally noticed that she was awake when they came in to check on her, Argo had to pull herself away from her thoughts as she was interrupted by concerned doctors and nurses as they tried to determine how she was feeling.

No one asked her what happened in the game.

She wouldn't have told them anyway.

Silently, she vowed that as soon as she could gain access to the internet, she would track down a few of her contacts. Surely at least one of them would know what in the world was going on.

And then . . . well, she'd go from there.

The world was a big place after all.

0~o~0

It took Argo a good two weeks before the doctors let her anywhere near a computer with a computer connection.

The entire time she was in the hospital, she never once saw her mother or father. It wasn't a surprise, really, but it still made her heart ache with loss. She'd never been all that close with her parents. They were both well known archaeologists and spent a lot of time traveling the world. She, their only daughter, had been a bit of a surprise baby. Her mother hadn't even known that she was pregnant until she went into labor.

In the beginning they had happily brought her with them in their world travels, but as time went on it became much more of a hassle once she had to start school and demand much more of their time. It wasn't long until they'd found her a semi permanent babysitter to watch over her in Japan while they traveled.

They'd been drifting apart for a while, of course, but sometimes Argo wished that she had normal parents who actually would take time to see the daughter that had been in a coma for over two years.

The moment she got her hands on a computer, that was the first thing that she looked up.

Her father was in China at an archaeological dig. Her mother was somewhere in Europe. Both were only contactable through e-mail. Argo didn't bother trying.

She had more important things to worry about.

It wasn't too hard to track down her old contacts from SAO. She _did _have to hack into the government database to get the names and associated avatar names for each surviving player, but she'd managed. Over half of her contacts were dormant, sadly. It was likely that their families were either preventing them from using the internet, or they themselves just wanted to put the whole thing being them and not look back. Argo wouldn't blame them.

All of the ones that she _did _contact, however, where just as clueless as she was.

The next logical step was to, of course, spread her reach. Argo proceed to set up her own gaming forum named _The Rat_. There were a few short lines in the description that only an SAO player would understand and take as proof of her identity.

It took a few days, and several survivors who were simply asking for information. A lot of people wanted to know _what_ had happened. No one had been expecting to be released from the game. Friends had been torn apart without getting to say goodbye, guilds, found families, everyone wanted to know.

_Who are they, IRL?_

No one talked about their real lives in Aincrad. No one used their real names. In Aincrad, it had been like a fresh start. You didn't have to be the person that you were before. You could reinvent yourself.

No one had been prepared for that new life to end. They never got to prepare to meet up outside, IRL. They never told each other their real names.

Argo got a lot of requests for contact information and, after careful research to make sure that the players were who they said they were, she traded information for it.

_What were you told happened, when you woke up? _

There were varying stories. A lot of people had agents actually come and talk to them, claiming to be part of the government assigned to oversee the SAO incident. Argo had her doubts.

Finally, a week after setting up the account, Agro finally hit gold.

"_Is this Argo, The Rat?"_

The Private Message came through on a rainy day. She could hear the rain pelting the window outside of her room.

"_Yes."_ She replied. "_And who is this?"_

The reply came quickly.

"_My name is Wisteri. I was part of the raid group against the 75th floor boss . . ."_

Argo felt her pulse pick up as she read through the rest of his message, feeling sick to her stomach. The 75th floor boss, the Reaper, had been worse than anyone expected. Argo had known that it would have been bad, but to the extent that Wisteri was describing . . .

It had been a _massacre_.

But that wasn't what had her heart freezing over.

"_We were betrayed. _

"_Over half of us were gone. We were exhausted and beaten. I have never been in a boss fight that devastating, I was ready to break down right there and go back to the town of beginnings but . . . _

"_The Black Swordsman stood up and accused Healthcliff of being _Kayaba Akihiko_. None of us wanted to believe it . . . but he confirmed it. He'd been planning it all along, he said. 'A grand reveal, the greatest betrayal.' He was our strongest player, our hope, and he planned to crush it because . . . _

"_He was the Boss of the Hundredth Floor."_

Argo felt like she was dying all over again. Her throat felt tight as she stared at the next few lines.

"_Kayaba offered a deal. We were all paralized, we couldn't move, everyone but Kayaba and the Black Swordsman, Kirito. He said that if . . . that if the other could defeat him, there and then, he would release everyone. He even said that he would deactivate his immortality to make it fair._

"_They fought . . ." _

Argo clenched her fists, feeling faint.

"_Kirito defied the game. I don't know how. I only know that he was _dying. _We all saw it. His sword was broken, Asuna had fallen, he had no reason left to live but . . . somehow he got ahold of Lady Asuna's weapon and stabbed the commander with it. _

"_They both died at the same time, shattering into thousands of pixels."_

Kirito. _Her _Kirito. The lonely swordsman who she'd met in the beta who was so quiet and yet so _caring_. He'd always been a gentle, if sad, soul. Next to Heathcliff in the game, he was the second strongest character. He'd soloed floor bosses, he was practically _unbeatable_ . . . She would have _known _if he hadn't made it. She had the list of players, surely she would have _noticed _. . .

She scrambled to pull up the list desperately scanning the names. _Surely_ his name was still there, right? It had to be. It _had to._

"_I don't know if you already knew this, but I had to tell someone. I don't want what he did to be forgotten. So thank you, for listening." _

Argo's breath hitched.

The small space where she knew that Kirito's name was supposed to be . . .

It wasn't there.

Kirito . . . Kirito was gone.

0~o~0

Kirito was never one for drawing attention. He preferred to work alone, and without people being able to recognize him. Oh, lots of people knew him by his _titles_, but they hardly ever recognized _him_. The Black Swordsman, the Beater, The Solo, they knew him by his reputation, but no one expected such a weak looking player to actually be _that _Kirito.

Argo knew this. Had known it. She'd made it a point to keep word of his appearance quiet by setting such a high price on it that no one could even attempt to pay. And they had tried. Everyone and their pets seemed to have a grudge against him in the beginning, but it had worn off after the first twenty or so levels that they cleared. It probably helped that he was one of the _strongest _players in Aincrad.

She'd respected his wishes then but . . .

He'd saved all of them.

Who knew how many people would have died before they reached the end. Who knows how much longer they would have been trapped, wasting away in their hospital beds. It had been two years already . . . some people would have started dying from organ failure if a few hadn't already.

He'd saved hundreds, _thousands _of people . . .

And they didn't even know.

Kirito wouldn't care, of course. He never cared for fame. But Kirito was _gone_ . . .

They deserved to know. They deserved to know _who _saved them.

That night, a post was set up on her forum, documenting the life of a brave player who had done his best to survive and keep on living, even when it seemed that the whole world was against him. It told of his love of the game, his dedication, and his drive to see it cleared for the sake of everyone else. She wrote of the hate he invited upon himself to protect the beta testers that wouldn't be able to fend for themselves, the self imposed isolation, the loneliness.

Argo carefully depicted everything that she knew about his battles with the clearers, the fight against Laughing Coffin, his kind tutoring of younger players, and his generosity. She included Asuna and how the other player met, fought, fell in love, and married Kirito. She included their daughter, Yui, who they'd adopted just before the end.

And then finally, she wrote about their end. The Final Fight. The End of Aincrad, where Asuna sacrificed herself to give Kirito one last chance to save them all.

Argo told Kirito's story, from beginning to end, with no regrets.

The survivors needed to know the truth, and she gave it to them. No extra cost.

As she finished, Argo felt her heart shatter into pieces. She'd never been particularly _close_ to Kirito, more passing acquaintances than anything else, but seeing his story laid out before her like this . . . everything she knew, everything she'd heard and learned about him pieced together into a beautiful tapestry that ended before its time.

That night, she fell asleep with tears in her eyes, alone in her big, empty home.

They were free, but at what cost?

0~o~0

Argo felt wrung out and exhausted. She ignored her chiming computer in favor of lying curled in a ball on her bed, contemplating her life.

Aincrad had changed all of them, for better or worse. There was no going back, no undo button. Everything that they had felt, experienced, and learned would stay with them for the rest of their lives.

Argo, even if she'd wanted to, could never go back to being Tuski Fujisaki.

So, what now?

She was an info broker. It was so ingrained in her at this point that there was no way that she _couldn't _be one. So, what did that mean for her future? She had her contacts from SAO, sure, but most of them were teenagers with little to no influence in the real world.

Slowly, an idea started to spark.

Sword Art Online became the horror that it was because _no one knew_ it was going to happen before it did. But now that it had happened once, who is to say that it wasn't going to happen again? The only way to prevent another SAO tragedy was to know about it before it happened.

Argo sat up, her eyes widening. Her body protested as she pulled herself from bed and grabbed her computer, still stubbornly ignoring the alerts to her forum. She'd look at it later.

She had an idea, but first she needed information. _Lots_ of information. And that meant informants, especially ones _outside _of SAO.

Argo was no Kirito. Sure, she'd had her claws and her wits, but she could never have been a front line player. No, Argo's true strength was _Information. _

_With knowledge comes power. _

She would make sure that another SAO _never_ happened again.

For Kirito, who believed there was hope and beauty even in a trapped world and fought to preserve it.

For Asuna, who reached beyond herself and became a leader that others were proud to fight beside.

For everyone that had fallen in the face of death, never given the chance.

Argo would make sure that they would never be forgotten.

0~o~0

Two days later the story broke.

300 players were still in a coma, trapped in an eternal cage in their own minds.

One of them was Asuna Yuuki.

0~o~0

Argo stared at the image on screen of the young Asuna Yuuki, daughter of the CEO of RECT, the programming company that had taken over the SAO servers when the original company went bankrupt.

Asuna Yuuki, one of the 300 players who had yet to wake up.

Asuna Yuuki, who looked _exactly _like Asuna the Flash.

Asuna Yuuki, _alive._

And if she was alive . . .

_Kirito might be too. _

**0~o~0**

**Well, here is the first chapter! Not quite all the way there yet, but we will get to the 'criminal family' in the next one. I figured that this was a good place to end it. Hope you all enjoyed! Let me know if you have any ideas of where this is going!**

**(Updated: 8/17/2019)**


	2. People of Aincrad

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sword Art Online. **

**Here we are! It finally starts to form. Not entirely happy with this, but whatever. It's just for fun, anyway. I hope that you all enjoy!**

**0~o~0**

**Chapter 2**

_**People of Aincrad**_

_**-o-**_

_**To: Argo the Rat**_

_**From: Chrona**_

_See _

_I was talking to someone I know from a game called Alfheim Online and they showed me this picture taken of one of the lower branches of the World Tree in the center of the game. Look Familiar?_

_**-o-**_

_**To: Chrona**_

_**From: Argo the Rat**_

_Get me in contact with your friend. I need to talk to them. _

_**-o-**_

_**To: Agil**_

_**From: Argo the Rat**_

_See _

_You know how to contact Kirito, yes? One of my contacts sent me this picture. Please get it and a copy of Alfheim Online to him as soon as possible. _

_A few days ago in this game, a group of players attempted to skirt the game quest by flying as high as they could and jumping from each others shoulders to beat the flight limit. They were able to get a picture of a fairy trapped in a birdcage near the lower branches. The fairy looks suspiciously like Asuna. This information is as of yet unconfirmed, but the chances are high. _

_Please keep me informed. _

0~o~0

It all started, Argo was sure, with the realization that both Kirito and Asuna were alive.

Sure, it came with the depressing knowledge that Asuna was still trapped, but it also opened up several new questions.

Like, for example, _why were they still trapped?_

She'd managed to get her hands on the list of trapped players, and Kirito wasn't among them, which meant that he was still alive. More digging revealed that he _had_ been in contact with a few other players, namely Agil, and that he also had an outside source that was providing him contact information of the people that he knew in game. It hurt Argo a little that she wasn't one of the people he contacted, but that was easy enough to brush aside. Whoever was giving him his information was clearly stingy. She'd been quick to get her own little spies in place as soon as she found out his IRL name, and it hadn't been too hard to figure out that he was being closely watched by several of those agents that the other players had talked about.

Apparently, she wasn't the only one who had found out the truth about what Kirito had managed to accomplish. As of now, she was working under the assumption that the government had something planned for Kirito, and she didn't like it. Until she knew, she herself couldn't contact him without jeopardizing what she was working on. If those agents found out what she was doing . . . well, she would rather her little pet project not be in the hands of someone else.

Still, this put a lot of restrictions on her. Clearly, Kirito was exchanging information with the government about what had happened in game for the contact information of his friends. One of her contacts in the hospital (one of the nurses who had taken care of her while she was trapped in the game, actually) had reported that Kirito had actually been visiting Asuna almost every day since he was permitted to leave the hospital.

When another contact gave her the image of the fairy trapped at the top of the World Tree, however, she knew that she couldn't just keep quiet.

Agil easily agreed to get the picture and game to Kirito. In the meantime, Argo set about rounding up as many people as she could to go help save Asuna. The quest for the World Tree was said to be impossible, but Argo knew that even just a few more vetren SAO players at Kirito's side might help him.

In the meantime, she had some investigating to do. Something smells fishy, and Argo was determined to figure it out before something else went wrong.

0~o~0

**Posted: 6:45 AM**

**Quest: Race to the Great Tree**

**One of our own has been held captive in the towering branches of the World Tree in Alfheim. A fairy as fast as lightning lies trapped within a golden cage, separated from her Prince. Will you join the Black Swordsman in his journey to take the World Tree and save his Princess? **

**Yes / No**

0~o~0

Argo didn't know what she was expecting. She'd left a few of her trusted contacts in charge of creating and organizing a raid party that could take down the Great Tree, and then jumped right in to her own research.

What she found was, frankly, horrifying.

Sugou Nobuyuki. On the surface he was an upstanding citizen with good prospects and a secure job. As the head researcher for Alfheim Online, he played a large part in making sure that the new game was secure and protected against any kind of attack, both inside and out. He was also, apparently, one of the Game Masters for the game itself.

He was also Asuna's fiance . . . and they were scheduled to me married within the week, weather Asuna woke up or not.

And that was just the surface. He'd had contact with several different shady organizations in the last few years as well. Each organization dealt with military, terrorists, or weapons manufacturers, none of which he should have _any _contact with according to his lifestyle. He also had an off the payroll staff that reported directly to him.

All in all, it wasn't looking good.

It hadn't taken long to gather everything that she knew about him and put it together in a single file. It was a little harder to get it dropped to the police anonymously, but she managed.

It took her one week to get everything done.

Just in time for Kirito to beat the World Tree, expose Nobuyuki as man behind the whole plot, rescue Asuna, and make it back out with all 300 players.

Argo really couldn't beat him, could she?

0~o~0

Not to long ago, Suzuki had been just one of many Sword Art Online players trapped in the game. She hadn't been all that strong, nor had she been very brave. In fact, for the most part she focused on learning how to make leather armor and clothing to sell to the other players. As a crafter instead of a fighter, she rarely actually had to see any fighting herself. This also left her in the unique position of catering to a lot of the mid-level players. She'd spoken to a lot of them, learned their stories, their hopes, and their dreams. Some of them came back. Some . . . didn't. Either way, she learned a lot about her customers, as well as what was going on.

Any then one day, a cloaked figure had approached her with a proposition.

Suzuki was sitting on a well of knowledge, the figure had said, and that knowledge could be used to help other players survive. She apparently had a very likable personality, which let people relax around her and tell her about things they would usually keep to themselves.

In exchange for getting her some of the rarer materials that she needed, the other only requested that she message her with any interesting rumors or tidbits that she might hear.

The figure had given her name as Argo.

Two weeks later, a man walked through her door wanting to trade several of the monster skins that he'd collected and needed to sell. He said he'd been sent by _The Rat, _an infamous info broker named Argo_. _

Honestly, the only reason she even agreed in the first place is because she knew that the information might actually save a few of the other players. Suzuki might never be able to fight on the front lines herself, but she could help them in small ways.

And then SAO ended, and they were all set free.

At first, she thought that would be the end of it. Those two years of her life were two years spent away from her real life, two years wasted. They didn't mean anything and they would slowly fade away as time went on and she left that life behind.

Expect two years are apparently _really _hard to forget. She kept reaching for her crafting needles whenever she saw the holes in her jeans or the worn clothing in her dresser.

It was _frustrating_.

Why couldn't she just _move on_ like everyone was telling her? Those two years? _They weren't real!_

So why did she feel so lost?

And then, a few weeks after she got out of the hospital, she got an email.

"_Hey Suzuki, this is Argo. I have a little task that I need to you work on . . ."_

Suzuki hadn't been sure what to think. She'd left the life of an informant behind, surely. There was no need for Argo to contact her now that they were out of the game, right? Except she did, and Suzuki found she wasn't as against the idea as she thought.

It wasn't long after that, that Suzuki found herself regularly exchanging emails with several other informants who were in the same boat as her. They all ranged in age, but it was surprisingly easy to get everyone organized. To her surprise, Suzuki found herself unofficially being appointed the leader of their little group.

Back in the game, Argo had been the one that ran everything. Sure, there were a few people who were familiar with each other in her sphere of influence, but for the most part it was near impossible to tell one of her informants from a regular player. Here in IRl, however, everything was much . . . bigger. Argo didn't have enough time to run everything. She hadn't _told_ them that, of course, but it wasn't hard to figure out.

There were, in fact, several different groups that were forming now that they were aware of each other. They all had different talents and connections that they could use, and it became almost easy to start creating 'groups' that handled different kinds of information.

Even still, Suzuki didn't expect to be put in charge of probably the biggest project in her life.

Organizing the raid party for the World Tree in Alfheim.

She honestly didn't know what Argo was thinking when she handed the whole thing over to her in the middle of the night. Maybe she was thinking that only a few people would respond, or maybe she really did trust just a lowly informant to organize over _two thousand people_ together for a raid. _She'd never even been a part of a raid before!_

Sure, Suzuki had heard of Asuna, the one that might be trapped at the top of the tree. She might have also been a little bit of a fangirl, but this was _huge._ It meant venturing _back_ into the digital world that they'd just left. They chanced being trapped _again_ in a random game, not even their own. But this was for a fellow player, and Suzuki couldn't help but feel a little bit of awe that she had the opportunity to be a part of this.

It was a huge surprise, too. It was so huge, that Suzaki had thrown her hands in the air and pulled out some of her savings and rented a conference hall that they could meet in. She then sent out an email to all of the informant groups in other cities to find their own meeting places for a mass tele-conference in exactly six days at 4:00 PM. This is where they would tell the other players to meet up, to go over their plan for the raid. There was no way she was going to try and do that all through email.

And then she and her team buckled down and started researching.

Alfheim Online. They needed to know the safety precautions placed around the game, how the current players were affected, and what kind of game it was. How fast could someone level? What kinds of character builds were there? What was the quest for the Great Tree all about? What was the best way to go about defeating it?

There were nine races, all with their own skill sets and abilities. Supposedly the race that reached the top of the tree first became an Alf and gained unlimited flight. Each race was at war with the others in an effort to be the first to the top of the tree.

Thankfully, the SAO players goal wasn't to become alfs. No, all they needed to do was get Asuna down.

The best option would be to organize a group with a good portion of each of the fairy races. Different abilities and skills would make it easier to ascend.

They would succeed where others had failed, because they were _survivors._

The night as they all met up in the conference hall in Tokyo Suzuki was shaking in her shoes. Why was she doing this? This wasn't her place! She was just a lowly shopkeeper and crafter back in Aincrad. There was _no way_ she was supposed to be up on stage, talking too literally thousands of people.

Truely, Argo's influence was terrifying. Did she know just how many people she could rally just through one _post?_

They had several cameras set up around the room to livestream the strategy meeting. Suzuki tried very hard to keep her nerves from getting the better of her, and then stepped up to the podium, her team standing behind her.

She sucked in a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and stilled herself.

When she opened her eyes again, determination burned in their depths.

She could do this. _They _could do this.

Because they were survivors, they were fighters.

They were the people of Aincrad.

0~o~0

When Klein first heard of the mass meeting of SAO players he hadn't known what to think. Sure, Agil had contacted him about Kirito, as well as a few other people that Kirito had known, but it was a bit of a stretch to think that more people might end up showing up.

Regardless, he decided that it wouldn't hurt to at least show up to see what they were all about.

This . . . was definitely not what he was expecting.

"I will freely admit to all of you," the girl standing up in front of them wasn't incredibly outstanding. She was someone that he could have walked past any day in Aincrad and never given a second look, but here she stood, bold and confident in front of almost a hundred people, "I am not a fighter. I never have been." Her eyes burned with an inner fire that seemed to affect the crowd because they stood straighter at her words. "But I can tell you this. I am a _survivor of Aincrad!_ We _all _are! And right now, one of our own is trapped against their will at the top of the World Tree in Alfheim Online."

She gestured behind her, and the screen lit up with a blurry image of an auburn haired girl trapped inside a golden cage in what looked like a giant tree. "This is Asuna! Asuna the Flash! Vice captain of The Knights of the Blood Oath and faithful wife of the Black Swordsman, Kirito! She is _one of us!_ And we," she paused to look around at everyone, "We have a responsibility to make sure that _everyone makes it out of that game. _Right now Kirito is making his way to the World Tree to fight an impossible quest." She stood tall. "I don't care if you hate the Black Swordsman or want to thank him for setting us free. Three hundred of our own people are trapped somewhere in that tree, and right now we are the only ones that can be trusted to free them. So," she pumped her fist in the air, "Who's with us!"

The crowd roared, and Klein found himself roaring alongside them.

No doubt, if this girl had made it to the front lines, she would have been the leader of a terrifying guild. He could see that even she was surprised by the amount of response that she got.

"Good," she lowered her hand and then cleared her throat as the screen changed again to display the nine races of Alfheim Online. "Now, the reason that we are here tonight is to go over our strategy. Would everyone who led a guild please step to the front?"

Klein found himself grinning as he stepped through the crowd.

Maybe he'd try to ask the girl on a date. After this was all over and done with, of course. Kirito and Asuna came first, after all.

And whoever trapped them there? Well, lets just say that they were going to be mice meat once those two got ahold of them.

0~o~0

Of course, Kirito had to go and form his own alliances with his innocent smile and bold antics. The Sylphs and Cait Sith didn't stand a chance.

One week after gaining a copy of Alfheim online, Kirito beat the game and rescued all three hundred players.

That didn't mean that the raid group just disbanded, though, oh no. They were just getting started. As SAO players, being released from the game had seemed like a far off dream. And then it had happened, and they were suddenly sucked back into a life that they no longer understood, and that no longer understood them.

But together they were strong. Together, they knew that they could beat the odds.

And who better to have as their leader than the one who had proved to be the strongest of them all?

Kirito had no idea what was happening, of course.

Asuna was just grateful to finally be free from _that man_.

Argo was more focused on tying up loose ends.

And Suzuki . . . well, she suddenly found herself as the unexpected secretary of what was quickly becoming something close to an underground cult. The raid may not have ever actually happened, but she had managed to organize everyone together into groups before it was called off by Argo herself. And she'd called on their honor as people of Aincrad. That was . . . actually turning out to be a really big deal.

Honestly, she didn't know whether to scream in terror or laugh maliciously.

Japan would never be the same again.

**0~o~0**

**Okay, we are getting there . . . slowly. I don't plan on making Suzuki a big character. She was just some random person I plopped in there for continence. I don't see a lot of the other characters taking over the role of 'secretary' to the famiglia. Mostly, she is just going to work under Argo, who handles most of the 'spy' work. **

**I am building it up so that the main characters don't realize what is going on until it is too late. **

**Next Chapter: You mean you didn't know? **

_**Summary: Argo just wanted her information network back. She never expected . . . this. **_

**(Updated: 8/17/2019)**


	3. You Mean You Didn't Know?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sword Art Online.**

**Poor, poor, Suzuki. She didn't know what she was getting into. **

**Neither does Argo. **

**Chapter 3**

_**You mean you didn't know?**_

Adapting to the real world after being released from Aincrad was . . . hard. Suzuki just hadn't realized that there were other people affected by it as well.

The raid meeting had been both an eye opener and the start of all of her problems.

It began, as most things do, when Argo dumped the problem of the raid on the World Tree in her lap and went off to do her own thing. Suzuki hadn't asked. She wasn't paid to ask. By _Kayaba,_ she wasn't paid at all!

It ended when the raid was called off and Alfheim was temporarily taken from the server.

Or, at least, that's where it _should have ended._

But it didn't. Because Suzuki suddenly found herself with over a thousand frustrated former SAO players who had thought that they had finally found a _purpose_ in life. She'd expected them to disband, to go back to their normal lives, and to leave her in peace.

But _no. _They just _had _to ask the dreaded question_._

_What's next?_

No. Just . . . _no._ This was Argo's jigg, not hers.

Except at some point along the way, Suzuki found that she'd become too involved. Because she was an SAO survivor to, and she _knew. _Adjusting to a world that had left them behind wasn't easy.

And so, she'd gathered all of the 'leaders'. Originally, their purpose was to lead their faction of fairies in leveling and finally meeting up at the World Tree at the designated time. Now, they acted as a connection to those under their command.

(Suzuki carefully didn't think about how organized they were becoming. Organization could lead to becoming an _Organization. _She . . . wasn't sure she was ready for that.)

The first thing that had to consider was the _problem._

_What's next? We can't go back into the virtual reality, not until the whole Alfheim scandal calms down. And a lot of people wanted to go back, to at least work off a few of their frustrations before putting the 'I'm Fine' mask back on for the masses. _

It was the red headed man that gave them all a solution.

"Why not give them a task to do in the real world?" Klein commented, leaning back in his chair and smiling. As the leader of a well known guild back in SAO, he was well respected in their small group. There were a few other clearers in their group as well, but Klein was the only one who had a direct claim to knowing Kirito, the Black Swordsman.

There were also rumors that Kirito had trained him, but those were just rumors. Klein never confirmed nor denied.

"They need something to do," Klein continued with a shrug when everyone turned to look at him, "So give them a job."

It was . . . a surprisingly good idea. Argo had done something similar with her, giving her something that she could do to _help._

So why did Sazuki feel like the bottom of her stomach was going to drop through the floor?

_I have a bad feeling about this . . ._

0~o~0

Yaku wasn't stupid. In fact, there were a lot of people who could vouch that he was actually _terrifyingly brilliant_. His father had been so proud when he'd graduated early and took over the family business at the age of twenty. His good looks, cunning plans, and sharp wit had brought him far in life, and with his inheritance behind him he was unstoppable.

If his family had been normal, this could have meant that he would be at the top of the business world, or next in line for minister, but it wasn't. His father ran a . . . different kind of business.

Namely, he was the head of the most dangerous group of Yakuza in Japan.

So no, Yaku was definatly not stupid. He knew he had made enemies that might come after him, so he had made plans for every kind of situation that might arise. His men were trained to spot and deal with problems before they could arrive. He'd been in this business for as long as he could remember, he knew how to keep his own subordinates in line.

He was the head of the Konoha family, which had over two hundred different clans working either directly or indirectly for them. They all knew who they worked for, and what would happen if they stepped out of line. Even the police were wary of his family, more likely to turn a blind eye then act if it became obvious that they were involved.

Yaku had made his clan, and by extension himself, untouchable.

Which really didn't explain what he was looking at right now.

"Yuuto," Yaku called out to his second in command, who stood calmly by his desk, "Can you explain to me exactly what I am looking at?"

Yuuto had been working for his family since Yaku was born. His loyalty was unquestionable, which is also why Yaku often asked him for his opinion or clarification.

Yuuto didn't even blink as he accepted the reports handed over to him. They looked unremarkable, just a few slips of paper among thousands of others, but something had made the Young Master worried. He quickly scanned the papers and let one eyebrow lift in curiosity.

"It appears that several of the clans under your control have recently gone rogue. Is there any reason why they have done so?"

Yaku sighed and leaned back, eyes disterbed. "That's the thing. This has been happening for a few weeks, but it seems to be getting worse. I've sent agents in to investigate, but it's like they've completely cleaned out and just vanished. The only thing that my spies were able to get is this," he tossed a grainy photo on the table. Yuuto examined it with a frown.

It was a photograph of an odd symbol that looked like two swords crossed in front of a crescent moon. It was hard to make out, but it looked like the whole thing was painted in black paint on the walls of one of the warehouse bases. "A new gang?"

Yaku leaned forward on his desk, elbows balanced on the hard redwood and fingers laced in front of his mouth. "It's possible. I've done a little research, but nothing has come up." He shook his head. "Honestly, I am not sure what to think. Are they deserting? Where are they going? If it is the work of another gang . . . then who exactly are they?"

The silence weighed heavy for a few minutes before Yaku sighed heavily.

"In any case, I have my best men working on it. We will crack down on all of the deserters soon. It's only a matter of time."

Even so, the unease didn't leave.

0~o~0

Three weeks later, there was a delivery to Yaku's front gate.

It was one of the spies that he sent out to infiltrate one of the gangs he thought might be targeted next if it was another gang. He'd been tied up and left inside of a wooden box with a single note taped to the side. Along with familiar symbol, there was also a simple message which read: _We believe this is yours._

The man came back terrified, looking over his shoulder, and refusing to say anything other than one word, over and over again.

Monsters.

Yaku felt his unease turn into dread.

0~o~0

"In Aincrad, we fought for everything that we had, we carved out our place in society. Here, everything that we worked for is gone. But that doesn't mean that we should give up. No, this is just like Aincrad. We still have to make our mark, to carve out our place."

"But how do we do that?"

"Simple," the smile was wide and sharp, too sharp, "We start by taking out the trash."

0~o~0

"You do realize that what we are doing is going to leave a power vacuum, right? If its not them, its someone else in their place."

"Well," a pause, a chuckle, "Who has to say that it has to be someone else?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," there was another dramatic pause, "Why don't we take over? It wouldn't be too hard, really, and it would keep the gutter rats from just coming back."

"What, like becoming our own gang? We are not criminals!"

"Of course not. I never said that we were. But think about it . . . we are already a really big group. It would give us something to do, and a lot of the previous owners already said that they would work for us if we spared them. We could leave a few of us behind to supervise as we continue to clear the rest out. We won't become criminals ourselves, we will just be monitoring what they do to keep crime _off _of the streets. In fact, by doing this, we will be keeping even _more _people safe. What do you say?"

". . . I am listening."

0~o~0

"I can't believe that you convinced me that this was a good idea."

". . . I honestly never expected it to get this big."

"This is your fault."

"In my defense, I had no idea that this would happen."

". . . did you _honestly_ just put me in charge of the Japanese mafia?!"

". . . I'm sorry?"

"I hate you, Klien. I _hate _you. You get to deal with the paperwork."

0~o~0

In just three short months, it was all over.

From the beginning, Yaku felt like he was playing a game of cat and mouse, and he was the mouse. He'd already moved safe houses five times in the past month, but this other group was like a disease. Their shadowy influence was like a parasite, latching on and slowly sucking away the life of his men. One by one, the clans under his control fell, until he could no longer even control the ones still under him.

He also become extremely paranoid.

It didn't matter who he sent. Whoever he was up against never showed their face, never bragged, and never relented. Truely, it was a like a puppet master with their puppets, hiding behind the curtain and never showing themselves until the show was done. He'd tried using cameras to catch the culprits and, while he had gotten a few names, they had a tendency to cover their faces and use odd weapons to take down his men.

(And they never killed. No, every single one of his men were still alive after each raid. Yaku almost felt that was the creepiest thing of all. Where were all of his men _going_ if they were still _alive _somewhere?)

When he'd had the names checked, they ran into a wall. Their attackers apparently used fake names, even in casual settings. It had been _infuriating._

And now, finally, it had all come to an end.

Yaku tested the binding around his wrists with a frown. Just that morning his latest safe house had been gassed in the middle of the night with sleeping gas. He woken just long enough to realize what was going on before he, too, had fallen victim.

And now here he was, sitting in a painfully _normal _room with rope around his ankles and hands, expertly secured. It was all very professional. The plan, the capture, and the psychological pressure being put on him. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was up against the Military. But he hadn't gone against the government directly, so it couldn't be them. He wasn't a big enough nuisance yet for them to even notice him. So _who . . . ?_

The door swung open and Yaku stiffened as he looked up warily, keeping his face carefully blank. The key to facing any foe that might be stronger than you was to make sure that they didn't sense any weakness. This was the first person he'd seen since he woke up, and if experience proved right it would be the leader and their guards . . .

Yaku felt his jaw drop.

It . . . was a woman. Okay, unexpected, but not unheard of. What really threw him off was that she closely resembled his old homeroom teacher, Madam Wisteria. She wasn't her, of course, but the resemblance was uncanny. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun with a few strands escaping to float down around her delicate face. Silver framed glasses perched on her nose, not doing anything to hide the emotionless dark eyes that glared at him over the rim. Her clothing consisted of slacks and a dark red shirt under a long black coat that drifted all the way down to her ankles. In her arms she held a single clipboard, and by the way that she hand it every so slightly tilted Yaku _knew _that at any moment that clipboard could turn into a murder weapon.

If he had been any other person, he would not have looked twice. In all honesty, she looked just like anyone else you might see walking to or from work. But he knew better.

She had no guards except for a single red headed man that slipped in behind her and stood at the door. Yaku had the impression it was because she had _no need_ for bodyguards.

In all honesty, it was her eyes that tipped him off. No one should ever look like that It was the look of someone that once stood at death's door and spit in its face.

She flipped a few pages on the clipboard and settled into the soft chair across from him. Her red painted nails looked _really _sharp under the fluorescent lighting. Yaku gulped and fixed his gaze on the back wall, determined not to break.

"Yaku Konoha? Head of the Konoha famiglia, yes?" she asked in a clipped tone, her eyes flicking up to him and pinning him to his seat.

Yaku swallowed back the ball of nerves that settled in his throat as he replied gruffly. "Maybe. What of it? You seem to have me at a disadvantage, as well. May I enquire as to your name?"

"Hmmm," she tapped her clipboard a few times with her pen (another possible murder weapon, his eyes watched it closely), and then slammed it down on the glass tea table between them. Yaku jumped at the sound before he could control his reaction. Without his bodyguard and the lack of sleep, he wasn't able to control his actions as well as he would have liked.

The woman sighed suddenly, tapping her nails against the clipboard, "You may call me Suzuki, Yaku," her gaze didn't waver, but Yaku could see the red-head at the entrance trying to repress a grin, "And I am sorry to say, but you have left us with quite the problem."

Yaku felt his stomach sink.

"You see, we seem to have taken over your empire," her lips quirked slightly into a sly, rueful grin, "And I have to say, this is quite a surprise," her glasses glinted as she tilted her head, "I didn't expect to have the biggest Yakuza organization under my thumb when we started this whole operation. It was all supposed to be a _test."_

In an instant, Yaku knew that he was up against something much more dangerous than just another rival gang. This woman may look delicate, but her eyes revealed her true nature, that of a wolf in disguise. It was the look that one sometimes sees from soldiers coming back from war. Their haunted gaze filled with horrors Yaku knew he never _ever_ wanted to see for himself.

"So, Mr. Yaku," her grin was sharp, "_What do I do with you now?"_

Did he mention that those nails were murder weapons too?

0~o~0

As soon as she made it out of the 'interrogation room', also known as her _living room_, she glared at Klein, who was snickering behind his hand.

"It wasn't my fault," she growled.

Klein burst into laughter. "Did you see him, though? He looked like he thought you were about to murder him! He was sobbing! _Sobbing! _How in the world did you do it, Sazuki?"

Suzuki grumbled under her breath and gazed sadly at her reflection, tucking one strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm not _that _scary, am I?"

Klein's face didn't even twitch from its grin, "My Lady, _you are terrifying."_

Klein left the house with a large red handprint and a sobbing former yakuza boss being hauled away to their temporary holding pens until he could be 're-educated'. Every single one of their captured criminals faced the same fate. They did, after all, needed some muscle to handle the day to day running of the Organization they had created. Who better than a few people who were already in the business?

As they left, Suzuki couldn't help but sigh as she watched them go.

Maybe it was time for a vacation. Yes, a vacation sounded nice.

Argo could handle it for the next few weeks. She needed some time off to process what had just happened.

She very carefully didn't acknowledge that they'd just taken over the criminal underground.

0~o~0

Argo stared down at the hugle file in front of her, feeling very lost.

She'd been doing research on Nobuyuki's associates and who he might have been in contact with when she'd received the email from one of her informants that had been quiet for _months_. She'd almost forgotten about Suzuki, honestly, but this report . . .

Argo wanted to cry.

In tiny writing on the first page, there was a small note from Suzuki that read, "They might have taken it too far . . . we now rule Tokyo."

What had happened to her Information Network?!

**0~o~0**

**Well, I hope that you all enjoyed! It's kind of rushed, because this is all part of the set up. We should be bringing Kirito and Asuna into it soon, but that might be later, we will see. Let me know what you all think!**

**Next Chapter: The Boss**

_**Kirito might as well be a Level Boss. The Gutter Rat's might have overheard. Kirito still doesn't know that he is probably the most powerful, and feared, person in Japan. **_

**(Updated: 8/21/2019)**


	4. The Boss

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sword Art Online.**

**See the end of the chapter for more notes. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 4**

_**The Boss**_

When Kei was first released from Kayaba's world, he felt lost. He'd gone from being a member of a small time guild that was steadily working their way toward the frontline to a hospital patient who could barely lift his arms from the bed. It was . . . hard.

The world was forgin, different. It felt like being trapped inside of SAO all over again, except this time it was _real_. The real world held him within its grasp, and there was no escape. Sure, he and his guild had dreamed of finally beating the game, of hugging their family members again, and of finally being able to rest from the constant knowledge that death could strike at any moment. But that was all that it had been, a dream.

And then someone had beaten the game. 2_5 floors ahead of schedule. _

Kei . . . honestly hadn't really been sure what to think. He was grateful, of course, that they weren't just going to quietly pass away in some hospital while trapped in another world, but he also missed his friends, his freedoms, and the strength that he'd had in Aincrad. His family was nice, but they just didn't _understand_ the frustration that he felt.

It didn't help that everyone was treating those two years that they'd been trapped as just a hole in their lives. As if they could just wake up and continue where they left off as if nothing had happened. The survivors were expected to just _move on_ and _forget._

Like half of them hadn't seen a close friend die. Like half of them hadn't stared death in the face and spat in it. Like they hadn't spent two years of their lives _fighting._

The doctors and government officials were treating the survivors like _victims _of some terrible tragedy_._

What they didn't understand was that the survivors were _warriors_, above all else. They had trama, they'd faced death, and they lived to tell the tale. There was no forgetting it. There was no _moving on_.

But . . . who was going to listen to a boy barely out of his teens? It doesn't matter that he had been out fighting monsters for two years. It didn't matter that he knew what it was like in the game and they didn't. It didn't matter, because he was _too young _to _make his own decisions._

In SAO they'd dreamed of home, of warm food and a bed that you can return to every night. They'd dreamed of their parents, siblings, and friends welcoming them back.

Now . . . now he dreamed of _returning._ Returning to SAO, to the struggle and the fight and the _survival_, because the world was a cage, and he'd never realized it before. He dreamed of fighting for his friends, of growing old there, where his only worry was his life and happiness, of maybe finding his own family, and finally passing away without ever having to worry about the real world.

Because the real world wasn't everything that he'd dreamed, and he was only just starting to see it. Maybe that is what Kayaba had meant, all along, when he'd created Aincrad. It was a place of escape, a place where they didn't have to worry about _life_. A place that they could stay, permanently.

And then one night he'd gotten on the forums for any new of his friends from the game, and he'd found The Rat.

He'd never been in contact with her, but he had _heard _of her. Who hadn't? She was _the _Info Broker. When she spoke, people moved mountains to listen.

And so he read what she wrote, and sat back in shock.

He'd never really been one to keep up with the gosup about the frontlines or the clearers, but there were several names that _everyone_ had heard at least once.

Asuna, the Lightning Flash, second in command of the Knights of the Blood Oath, one of the strongest players in the game. Healthclift, leader of the Knights of the Blood Oath. Klein, frontline clearer and leader of Fuurinkazan.

Kirito, the Black Swordsman. The Beater.

_We were betrayed. _

In a fight between his own life, and the lives of everyone in Aincrad, the Black Swordsman defied all of the odds and defeated the final boss, Kayaba himself, 25_ floors early. _

Kei hadn't ever really had an opinion on the Black Swordsman. Sure, if the rumors were right, he was a selfish player so advanced and dangerous that if you try and take him on even as a large guild it would be suicied. He was like a level boss unto himself, and the other players knew it. Kei hadn't really thought a whole lot about it, because he never thought that he would actually meet the guy.

But if what Argo the Rat said was right . . . he'd _died _to _save everyone._

Someone like that . . . couldn't be as bad as the rumors said. Oh, Kei didn't doubt that he was dangerous, but second in evil only to Laughing Coffin? No.

And even if Kei hated living in the real world now that they were free of SAO, even if he wanted to go back to Aincrad, he couldn't help but feel respect for the man who had sacrificed everything for people who had come to reveal his name.

Less than two weeks later, Kei joined thousands of other SAO survivors as they came together to save the one who had freed him and the three hundred still trapped in the game.

The Black Swordsman had, in the beginning, shown them the way. He'd drawn their hate so that they didn't turn on each other, and he'd forged the path ahead of them so that they didn't give up. He didn't ask for anything, didn't try and clear his name. And, in the end, he'd given _everything_ for them.

The least they could do was give a little bit back.

0~o~0

"_You know, that Black Swordsman was terrifying. Like a Level Boss, really."_

"_What? You've met him?" _

"_He saved me and several members of my guild when our leaders led us into a Boss room unprepared. I will never forget what I saw that day. The monster never stood a chance."_

"_Really? Who was with him?"_

"_. . . in the end, it was just him and the Boss."_

"_So . . . he soloed it?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_. . . I am glad _he _wasn't Kayaba. The guy must have been as strong as a Boss all on his own."_

"_I know, right? It's kind of funny though . . ."_

"_What?"_

"_We keep saying that he was good enough to be a 'Boss'," here he chuckled slightly, "and here we are taking over the Tokyo underground. Even if Argo is our phantom leader, who do you think is the person _really _in charge?"_

"_No way . . ."_

"_Think about it, who would she drop everything to help?"_

"_You have got to be kidding me."_

"_Who else would we follow? Who else could bring everyone under one banner with _just his name and reputation?"

"_You're not kidding."_

"_Nope."_

_There was silence for several minutes and then they both burst out laughing, one in terrible realization and the other in delighted glee. _

"_You know what this means?"_

"_What, that out little 'criminal famiglia' is run by the most feared player in all of Aincrad?"_

_There was a flash of a white toothed grin, "Even better. The Black Swordsman is a Boss, both in and _out _of the game."_

"_. . . I can't believe I decided to go along with this. This is stupid."_

"_Can't deny that it's hilarious, though."_

"_Don't care." A groan, "Oh, man, we work under _the Beater_. Do you know how terrifying that thought is?"_

"_More than you could ever know. I _met _him, remember?"_

_With a week, Kirito's now nickname spread through the entire Organization, spreading terror and thoughtful contemplation in equal measure. By the end of the week, everyone knew who their real _'Boss' _was, even if he wasn't directly involved. Yet. _

0~o~0

Hiroshi Goro wasn't a big shot by any means. He was a high school drop out that had joined the closest gang that would accept him as soon as he could get out of the house and had been peddling illegal products around their territory for almost three years now. He had no ambitions and no delusions about his life. He was, and would always be, a low level flunky to the next big shot that came into town.

When his gang had been . . . taken, it had happened almost without him even realizing it. He'd noticed, of course, the strange people hovering around the edges of their territory and reported it to the leader. It might have been another gang encroaching on their territory, even if they didn't have any of the typical physical signs of one.

In any case, Hiroshi had been on a supply run the day that it all went down. One minute he'd been dropping off a package to one of their outer bases, and the next he gets a call that they are under attack. By the time he makes it back . . . it's all over.

No one is dead (unusual), no one is panicking (odd), and the strange people hovering around every corner are chillingly unreadable as they halt him at the front door and strip him of every hidden weapon with expert precision.

All it takes is one look in their eyes to know.

These people . . . they weren't _normal._ And not the abnormal that came with being in a gang, but the _odd _that came with the _supernatural_.

"_Is the eyes that give them away. Never look them in the eyes, for when you do, it is _Death _that looks back."_

The line from on of the light novels that he'd been reading hovered to the front of his mind, and Hiroshi couldn't help but sudder.

He found out later that they'd descended upon headquarters like a squad of nina, dropping from the rooftops and knocking out gang members with precise hits or tranquilizer darts. When they'd found the Boss, everything had gone silent for a few hours, but when they came back out Boss Rendo had looked . . . defeated. Not beaten, _defeated_. As if they had dropped the weight of the sky directly on his shoulders.

Hiroshi . . . still wasn't clear on exactly what had happened, but he did know that these people were _dangerous. _He'd heard from a few of the other gang members how they just seemed to _know _things, communicating with a glance, walking like trained soldiers, and commenting on things that they _shouldn't know_ about the gang.

All in all, the transition of power from one person to the next was . . . underwhelming. In the end, Hiroshi simply traded on master for another. He was still a supply runner, he still was told nothing, and he still knew nothing about what was going on.

It did spike his curiosity, though.

Boss Rendo was gone (where, Hiroshi was pretty sure he didn't want to know), so who was running everything now?

A few weeks later, he got his answer when he overhead two of the new members sent to _oversee_ the gang talking. And what he heard . . . _terrified _him.

"So," the one closest to Hiroshi started with a slow, rolling drawl as he leaned against the mat laid out on the floor of the room. "You've met the Boss, right?"

The other snorted into his drink and pulled back slightly, rubbing the back of his head, "Uh, yeah, didn't talk to him, though. We were just in the same room. It was one of those strategy meetings, you know? Lots of people packed into a tiny room, not a lot of light, and a lot of people talking over each other. I didn't even realize that he was there until he spoke up."

"Really?" the first spoke with a frown, "I'd think that someone of his reputation would have been front and center."

The second shuddered, "Oh, he was up front, all right, but he's worse than a ninja, I swear. If he doesn't want you to notice him? _You don't._ Blended right in with the shadows in that cloak of his. I could have been standing right next to him and never even realized."

"That bad?"

"Yeah," the second guy chuckled slightly, "I didn't really put a lot of stock into the rumors, of course, but you know what they say. He's always been the most dangerous of us all."

A snort, "Yeah, I've heard the stories."

"Oh?" The second perked up, "Which ones?"

Blue eyes flicked around the room before the other leaned in close, "You ever heard of _the Beater?"_

Darker brown eyes narrowed, "Of _course _I have. What do you take me for, a Slime? It was the first time I'd ever heard about _him._"

"Yeah, well, do you know how he gained that name?"

"Wait . . . you mean that time on the first floor when he . . ."

"Yeah."

"Man. That's cold. I still can't believe that he did that."

"That's not even the craziest part. You know the lady that worked with him?"

". . . No? I thought that he worked alone."

"Not that time. He was accompanied by _Asuna, _the _Lightning Flash."_

"Wait, they knew each other that far back?"

"Hard to believe, huh? Of course, she's almost as terrifying as he is."

"Tell me about it. I heard that she took on entire dungeon when she first started out."

"Don't forget the time that she burned down an entire village to get to her target."

"Or when she used her own men as bait and took down a legion of scouts."

"What about the time she foiled an assassination attempt by simply _looking_ at the assassin and he just turned himself in."

"You know," the second chuckled, "When we lay it out like that, it's no wonder he married her. They are made for each other."

"Yeah. The Boss is still more terrifying, though. I got a job to lead my group against him once. You know what I did?"

"No, what?"

"Spat in my employer's face and told him to go on his own suicied run, but don't drag me and mine into it."

"Ha, sounds about right. He's only gotten stronger since then, too. Just a few weeks ago he took on an enemy commander and defeated him in single combat. There wasn't even anything left for the soldiers to bring back once the Boss was done with him. Intimidated the army so but they turned tail and went home."

"Yep. Still terrifying."

"I guess we should just be grateful that we don't have to deal with him on a daily basis."

"That whole side of the family is a little crazy, though."

"Yeah," they laughed together for a minute before going silent for several seconds. Then the one closest to Hiroshi sighed, "Reminde to to write my Dying Wish down if I ever have to fight him."

A snort. "Will do, friend. Will do."

There was some shuffling as the two stood up and stretched to get back to work. By the time that they made it to the door, Hiroshi was already long gone.

Long gone and terrified, but not stupid. He carefully spread the word to his coworkers.

_The Boss is so powerful that his own subordinates fear him. He'd squash us like insects. _

Needless to say, the underground became even more uneasy. Who, exactly, where they following? Who was pulling the strings?

Who was The Beater?

0~o~0

As a police officer of nearly twenty years, Officer Gin had seen a lot in his life, but the last few months had given him a run for his money.

He groaned as he stepped out of his car and found _another_ person knocked out and tied up against the front door to the police station. Sorrowfully he looked down at his cup of hot chocolate and then plopped it back into the cup holder in the car.

It had started out as a few of the criminals they had under observation just up and vanishing a few months ago. No trace, no trail, just gone. Then, a few days later, they would pop up at the police station with a whole list of crimes they had committed and begging for the police to grant them protection from _them. _

Who _they_ were still wasn't clear to him or the station, but they weren't the only one getting these reports.

With a sigh and the cracking of knees, Gin crouched down and lifted the unconscious man's head up slightly so that he could ID him before bringing him in. The man's head fell through his slack fingers, however, as soon as he caught sight of his face.

Yaku, leader of the largest Yakuza family in _Tokyo_. Yaku, who had been _untouchable_ because of his connections with powerful people in the government. Yaku, who was currently passed out on their front porch, tied up like cattle and with a list of information that could get _anyone_ locked away for life.

Gin couldn't help but feel a headache press down on him.

Oh, this was going to be _so much paperwork._

**0~o~0**

**Well, that's it for this chapter. I hope that you all enjoyed. Please let me know if there are any requests for what you want to see in future chapters and I will see what I can include. **

**A little while ago, I asked if anyone wanted to see which story I should post or update next. I have a poll up on my profile if anyone wants to vote on it. I have also posted the stories Chat in New York (Avengers crossover Miraculous Ladybug) and Puppet Strings (Darker than BLACK), if anyone wants to check them out. **

**Anyway, have a good week!**

**(Updated: 8/30/2019)**


	5. Last Laugh

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sword Art Online.**

**So, I am going to be completely honest with you. I got a lot of flack for how the last version of this chapter was so different from everything else, and I get it, I do. I was really iffy about it when I posted it, too. It just didn't fit, even if I had spent hours of work trying to get it just right. So, to honor all of my readers who didn't feel quite right about the last chapter, here is the same plot, less 'villain' and more 'Kirito being Kirito' in the midst of a crisis he doesn't know about, an enemy stalking him from the shadows, and a certain Rat being more elusive than normal.**

**For those of you that enjoyed the last chapter, I have it saved to my computer in a separate document, and I am considering turning it into its own storyline. Would anyone like that? Please let me know. **

**Chapter 5**

_**Last Laugh**_

Kikuoka Seijirou had a headache.

He pulled off his glasses and pinched his nose in irritation as he looked at the numbers on the screen in front of him. As head of the SAO task force, the last few months had been mind numbingly busy. He'd visited hospitals, families of the victims, some of the victims themselves, and worked through _weeks _of paperwork about the release of the SAO players back into society.

And, on top of that? There was the Ocean Turtle. His own not so little side project. He'd just gotten word; project Alicization was a go.

None of that was the cause of his headache, however.

Unlike most of the world, Kikuoka Seijirou had no delusions that the survivors of Sword Art Online were just going to roll over and assimilate back into society. He'd seen war veterans who'd come back from the front lines. The things they'd seen? It haunted them, and they were never quite the same after.

The Sword Art Online survivors had the same exact look in their eyes.

And that was the reason why Kikuoka had made it a point to visit any of the survivors who had come up as _red flags_. He glanced down at the files in front of him, landing on the topmost page. The image pinned to the file depicted a slightly feminin boy of 14 with dark hair and darker eyes.

_Kazuto Kirigaya. _

The photo was obviously taken before the incident, and Kikuoka would have pegged him as a troublemaker even before he was trapped. There was a troubled look in the boy's eyes, like he carried some heavy secret he couldn't reveal to anyone.

"_Patient woke at approximately 1:24 AM and proceeded to get out of bed and wander the halls. He seemed coherent enough to have taken his IV bag with him. Was found at 1:50 AM collapsed just before the stairs down to the next level. Possible attempted escapee." _

Kazuto was flagged because the boy just _wouldn't _stay down. The boy had been jittery, flinching every time one of the doctors or nurses came anywhere near him with what could be mistaken as a weapon. He'd kept demanding to see someone named "Asuna", another SAO patient from a different hospital.

It had been noted that he didn't seem fond of authority.

Kikuoka honestly hadn't known what to expect when he visited the boy around a day after the Awakening. Maybe a half mad child desperately searching for his friends, or maybe a trigger happy boy ready to fly off the handle.

He hadn't expected Kazuto to stair him down from the hospital bed, dark eyes locking on him the moment he entered the door, and demand a list of the SAO survivors.

He didn't expect the commander in the body of a child.

He didn't expect Kirito.

"_Hello, Kirigaya," Kikuoka spoke calmly as he closed the door behind him. The nurses had already left, as he'd directed. This was to be a private conversation. "My name is Kikuoka Seijirou."_

_Kazuto was sitting up in bed, dark eyes sharp as glass and hands folded calmly in his lap. It was only Kikuoka's trained eyes that saw how tense the muscles in the boy's jaw were, or how the relaxed arms were not so obviously kept anchored to the sides of the bed with a length of soft cloth. Probably to keep him from getting back up and stressing his post coma body more than he already had. _

_Kikuoka kept his face bland as he tucked a few of the files he was carrying under his arm. Young Kazuto Kirigaya wasn't the first person he had visited today, and he wouldn't be the last, but there was something about _this one _that had him on edge. _

"_This is just a routine checkup," Kikuoka started, pulling back as sitting in the guest chair, "Circumstances being what they are, we thought it best to meet with each of the survivors and-"_

"_You're a government agent," Kikuoka choked on his words when Kazuto interrupted him, eyes so dark they seemed to cut to his very center. "You have access to the SAO survivor list, yes? I need to see it."_

_Kikuoka eyed the boy quietly before shaking his head. "I am afraid I can't do that, Kirigaya."_

_Kirito's folded hands tightened and his eyes, if possible, went even darker. _

"_You want what I know," the words were chilling, cold. They weren't the words of a child. "You want to know where Kayaba is hiding." _

_This time, Kikuoka really did choke. Was Kirigaya really insinuating what he thought he was? _

_After Sword Art Online went up, Kayaba just up and vanished. All of his notes, his diagrams, everything that might lead to where he was going or what he was after had been deleted from the system. He'd had no living family, no close ties to any of the other scientists, and no loose ends. Even his citizen registration forms had up and vanished. _

_He was like a ghost. _

_They'd hit a block about a year and a half ago. There were no sightings, no rumors, and no way of tracking the man down. And, as much as the government wanted him caught for what he had done, they'd had to back down because the man just _didn't seem to exist.

_And yet here was Kirigaya, saying that he might _know something.

"_Let's make a bargain, Mr. Kikuoka," Kirito leaned forward as far as he could with the straps on his arms, calculation sharp in every movement, "One name and location," his eyes glinted, "For one piece of information." _

_Kikuoka's breath hitched, and Kirito smirked. He'd already won this round. _

"_Choose wisely." _

Kazuto Kirigaya was an . . . interesting case. It had been clear from the moment that the boy had laid down his terms that things weren't going to be easy. Young as he looked (and was), Kirigaya was a soldier. And a high ranked one, at that.

The story that he wove (at the cost of almost a dozen names and locations Kikuoka really shouldn't be using as bargaining chips) was a chilling tale of life, loss, a battle for freedom, and an ultimate betrayal from one of their own.

_These kids aren't just survivors, they are fighters that just got yanked back out of the middle of a war. You don't just _let _those kinds of people back out into society without careful evaluation. _

Kayaba had never been hiding in the real world. He'd been hiding in _theirs._ That's why they had never found him. That's why they still couldn't find him.

"_Akihiko Kayaba is dead," Kirito's voice was void of emotion, "by my own hand." _

Everyone that came out of that game was going to be dealing with trauma for the rest of their lives. As much as Kikuoka would like to sic a therapist on each and every one of them, the government had already put its foot down.

_The kids have already been away from their families for two years, _they said. _We can't justify keeping them away for any longer now that they are awake._

Right. Trigger happy survivors that had spent _two years_ fighting for their lives and freedom. Where a fast moving object hurtling toward you meant _attack_ and you ran the risk of being murdered by your neighbor if you slept without locking your door.

But, Kikuoka was the head of the task force and as such he still had to follow the orders of his superiors.

Which also meant that he'd spent the last several months tracking down and covering up the SAO survivors slip ups. Right now the media labeled the people that came out of SAO as _victims_, which was much better than _potentially dangerous soldiers. _Best to keep it that way. Paperwork. Paperwork. _Paperwork._

One boy ended up accidentally stabbing his dog when it tried to sneak up on him while he was cooking. The mother had almost called the cops, but Kikuoka was able to get wind of it fast enough to calm her.

A girl from a bad home packed her bags and took to the streets. Kikuoka had the family investigated and quietly arrested. He and his task force were still trying to track her back down. Last he'd heard, she was headed for a more forested part of the country. Kikuoka would be more worried but, meh, Sword Art Online survivor. She'd be fine.

These and dozens of other cases had been popping up all over the place. Most of the survivors just couldn't seem to keep their hands _off_ the knives. The paperwork alone could have killed him . . .

And that was his problem right there.

Kikuoka tapped his fingers against his desk with a frown, eyeing the new empty spaces that had cleared up in the last few days. He'd expected the amount of paper to _increase,_ not vanish.

Sure, there were still little incidents. But that's just it. _Little. _They were hardly worth tracking down and correcting. Every survivor that was high risk, every person that he'd had under watch, just _stopped. _

He hadn't noticed anything really different until a few days ago, when one of his task force members brought up how nice it was that things were starting to calm down.

But . . . they hadn't calmed down. Calming down, he would have understood. All of the psychological problems, the twitchy fingers, the shifty eyes? It should have taken a few years before they finally subsided.

He'd had someone put the numbers together, and what he was seeing _didn't look good._

The number of incidents had been increasing steadily every day since the SAO patients had been released home. And then, about three weeks ago, they'd _vanished. _Like, all of the potential twitchy fingers suddenly weren't so twitchy. Survivors were holding up in their rooms on their computers or out walking the streets happily. Not being jumpy, or twitchy, or . . . or _normal. _

_Oddly enough, this correlates with the ALO incident. But none of that was released to the public. No one but the people involved should know what happened. _

Somehow, he just knew that this was all Kirigaya's fault.

_What, _Kikuoka scowled, _are you involved in this time, Kirito? _

0~o~0

The sound of something loud blaring at him from behind had Kirito automatically reaching for the sword handle at his back as he fell into a slight crouch.

_Large and loud, approaching fast. Spin should get me out of the way, and if I get get my sword out I can damage it as it goes past-_

His hand closed on empty air.

Kirito blinked slowly as a car screeched past, horn bleeding a few more times before going silent.

_Ah, I did it again._

A few people on the sidewalk with him gave him an odd look as he straightened back up again, cheeks reddening slightly.

Three months and a couple of weeks, he'd been out of Aincrad. For the most part, Kirito would say that he was doing fairly good. His muscle mass was picking up, and he hadn't seriously overreacted to anything yet. Sure, some things still surprised him, and it irritated him that the bamboo swords in the dojo weren't as heavy as he would like them, but over all he was okay. He was out of the game, Kayaba was gone, Asuna was awake, and he had his family with him.

There was just one problem-

"Kazuto?" Sugu frowned at him, eyes flicking between his empty hand to the road, "Are you okay?"

_That's not my name._

Kirito smiled blandly. "It's okay, Sugu. I was lost in thought, so it just surprised me."

He'd been Kirito so long that he didn't know _how _to be Kazuto anymore.

He could probably tell her. She might understand, a little bit, how hard it was for him. Sugu was also Leafa of Alfheim. She had to go by two names as well.

But . . . she'd never tried to just _forget _her original name.

Kirito didn't know when it happened. Maybe it was the first boss battle, when he made himself a target for all of the players. Maybe it was when he turned away from talking to _people_ and turned instead to sleeping and grinding in the forests day in and day out.

How long ago had he let go of _Kazuto _and simply became _Kirito?_

"Hmm," Sugu tilted her head, "I don't know if I believe you."

Kirito shook his head and flexed his hand, hiding it from sight as he did so. "It's fine, Sugu. Really. You don't need to worry. Besides," he sighed, "if we don't hurry, we will be late to meet up with Asuna."

Sugu's face twisted for a moment before falling into a slight, rueful smile. "If you say so. Just, please know you can talk to me if you need anything."

Smiling, Kirito nodded as they set off again.

Neither of them noticed the young man who had been standing against the wall the entire time that they were talking, ball cap pulled low and face shadowed.

As they turned down the street, the figure flipped open an old phone and pressed the call button. After a moment, there was a click.

"_What is it, XaXa?" _

"Hello, Guild Master," _XaXa_ smiled crookedly, one eye peeking out from under his cap and watching the pair of siblings as they walked away, "I believe I just found our target. Permission to tail them?"

There was silence on the other end, and then a crackle, "_Permission granted. Don't get caught." _

XaXa _grinned. _"With pleasure, PoH."

The phone cut off with a click.

0~o~0

PoH stared down at the phone with hooded eyes, contemplating what he had just heard.

In Aincrad, he'd been _in his element_. Feared by the population as a whole, he was probably the most wanted criminal in that entire world. No one could catch him, although they tried. Only a small handful of people even had the strength to stand against him and his followers.

And, although they had ruined his budding empire, he'd been _happy. _

So_, so happy._

The real world was such a dull, dreary place. Everything was so _grey_. In all honesty, PoH had never wanted to return here. In Aincrad, it was kill or be killed. Live and die. Power and weakness. He'd never expected it to become _real,_ but he'd adapted.

He'd practically written himself into the lore of Aincrad, by this point.

_Aincrad, created by Akihiko Kayaba. A castle in the sky, with over a hundred floors. The _Beater_, the beta tester who wouldn't die. Asuna the Lightning Flash, so fast she leaves flickers of light in her wake. The Clearers, top leveled players who pushed the frontlines every day. The _heroes _of our generation. _

_And Laughing Coffin. The murder guild. _

_My life's work._

_And he _ruined _it. _

PoH tightened his grip on the burner phone in his hands, lips twisting into a snarl. Aincrad was a _masterpiece. _A _work of art._ It was a world, entirely one its own. It had its own laws, its own people, and its own legends.

When Laughing Coffin had been attacked and decimated, PoH had been furious. He'd spent _years_ setting up everything just right. His final act had been about to open. And then _he'd _swooped in, dozens of clearers in his wake.

_A black cloak flashing in and out of surprised red players like a shadow. Screams, clashes of metal against metal, and _shattering _as three of his men vanished in a hail of blue pixels._

The look in his eyes had been so _cold._

But that wasn't what made PoH burn with rage. Oh, no.

_You took us from that world. You _ripped _us from the lives that we'd built. We were _happy _there, and you destroyed everything. _

PoH _hated _the real world. It was cold, and too many people were watching. But there was one good thing about it. All of the members of his guild that had been captured and put in prison were now free. Here, no one knew what they had done. No one knew to lock them away. All it had taken was hiring a hacker to get a hold of a few specific names.

So, no. This wasn't the end of Laughing Coffin. In fact, it might even be a new beginning.

"Kirito," PoH hissed, staring down at a single printed picture that one of his followers had managed to snag a few weeks ago before the familiar figure had been lost in the crowds, "I am going to find you. And when I do-"

His eyes blazed.

"It will be my blade you see last."

**0~o~0**

**I hope that this fits the style of the story a little better than my last attempt. Again, if you liked my last attempt at the chapter, I might put it up for a different story. This still turned out a little darker than my other chapters, but I tried. I think I might just be in a **_**mood**_ **right now. Arg.**

**Let me know what you think. Is it still too dark? Do I need to do another revision? I am going to try and bring Klein back in for the next chapter. Hopefully. Who knows when that will be, though. **

**(Published:3/23/2020)**


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